Chapter 7

Amanda’s POV

Nicholas’s rejection still burned like acid in my veins. I could still see the way he looked at me last night. He had a cool, disinterested stare as if I were no more enticing than a piece of rotten meat.

I had gone to his room in the perfect dress, my hair in loose waves that brushed my bare shoulders, the scent of my most expensive perfume clinging to my skin. I’d touched his chest, whispered in his ear, pressed my body against his. And what had he done?

He told me to get out.

No, not just told, he ordered. His voice had been cold enough to freeze blood, but his eyes were unreadable. I had been so humiliated that I could barely breathe as I walked out.

It was Esther’s fault. I saw how Nicholas kept stealing glances at her all night.

She had stolen my chance, my place, and my bed. My Nicholas.

Fine. If she wanted to play games, I’d end them.

By the time the morning chores started, my plan was already set in motion.

A small pouch of powder, tasteless and colorless, passed from my hand to that of a certain Omega maid with shifty eyes and desperate pockets.

“Make sure she eats it all,” I said, my voice low and lethal. “And don’t let anyone see you.”

The maid nodded, stuffing the pouch into her apron.

I didn’t stop there. I sent for Bobby, a man who knew exactly how to find the kind of filth I needed.

“Get me someone strong,” I told him. “Someone who doesn’t mind taking what he wants.”

Bobby’s eyes gleamed. “And you want him sent to her room?”

“Exactly.” I smiled sweetly. “Tonight.”

By the time I walked away, I could already taste my victory.

Esther’s POV

I was so hungry I could barely think. My hands shook as I scraped the leftover scraps from the kitchen counter into a bowl. I’d have to do with bits of bread, a sliver of cheese, the corner of a burnt steak.

The Omega maid slid up beside me. “Esther, I need you to come to the laundry room. My arms are full, so you should wash these clothes for me.”

I sighed, but nodded. I was used to doing other people’s work. It wasn’t worth the argument.

By the time I came back, my hands red from the hot water, I nearly collided with the same maid in the hallway. She flinched like I’d caught her stealing.

I frowned, but the gnawing in my stomach won out over curiosity. I went straight back to my food, barely noticing anyone else around.

The more I ate, the hotter I felt. For a moment, I wondered if someone had turned up the heat.

I didn’t hear the door click shut behind me until it was too late.

A man I didn’t recognize stood in the room, broad shoulders filling the doorway. His eyes raked over me in a way that made my skin crawl.

Before I could move, he lunged.

I fought, shoving at his chest, but my body betrayed me.

Heat curled low in my belly, sharp and sudden. My skin prickled, every nerve ending lighting up.

It could only be one thing. I’d consumed an aphrodisiac. I was sure of it.

Panic warred with the unbearable need twisting inside me.

I forced myself to slump, pretending to give in. The moment his guard dropped, I slammed my knee up and caught him between the legs. He roared in pain, and I darted past him, shoving the window open and scrambling out.

I hit the ground hard, but I didn’t stop.

The night air was cool, but it did nothing to soothe the fire raging in my veins. My lungs burned, my legs pumped, but the sound of his footsteps followed.

I pushed through the servant’s entrance back into the house and bolted down the empty corridors, knowing no one would hear me even if I screamed. My only thought was to get away, get somewhere he couldn’t reach.

At last, I stumbled into the next empty room and slammed the door behind me. I pressed my back to it, chest heaving, body trembling. The heavy footsteps of my tail ran passed the door, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

When I breathed in again, the scent hit me. Cedar and fresh oranges, woodsy and citrusy, curled around me like invisible fingers.

I’d escaped from my attacker, but I still had a horrible, clawing need that needed to be satisfied. That scent, that wonderful scent, belonged to a man that could help me.

My body moved before my mind caught up. I pushed off the door and into him, fisting his shirt and dragging his mouth down to mine. The kiss was feral, my teeth clashing against his, my breath coming in harsh gasps.

He growled low in his chest, his hands gripping my hips like he meant to leave bruises. The solid length of him pressed against me, and I moaned into his mouth, the sound shameless.

I yanked at his clothes, tearing fabric, needing him skin to skin. His fingers bunched my dress around my waist, rough and impatient, shoving my underwear aside to slide two fingers deep inside me.

I cried out, my head falling against his shoulder, my hips rocking into his hand. The pressure was unbearable, and I was drowning in it.

“More,” I gasped, the word breaking apart in my throat.

He freed himself with one harsh movement, and then he was there. He was thick, hard, and pressing against my entrance before driving into me in one fierce thrust.

The stretch stole my breath, and then he began to move hard and fast, every stroke hitting deep enough to make my legs shake. My back slammed into the wall with each thrust, my nails raking down his back.

His powerful scent wrapped around me, mixing with sweat and heat. My world narrowed to the sound of our bodies colliding, the low growl in his throat, and the relentless rhythm that left me gasping.

The pleasure built fast, coiling tight until it snapped, and I shattered with a cry, my body gripping him desperately. His pace faltered, hips jerking, and with a final groan he spilled inside me, pressing me hard into the wall.

For a moment, all I could do was cling to him, panting, every nerve still sparking with aftershocks.

I woke in a tangle of sheets, my head heavy, my body aching in ways that left no doubt about what had happened. A quick glance around told me that this was one of the guest rooms.

My heart slammed against my ribs when I saw Nicholas lay beside me.

I bolted upright, fumbling for my clothes. My head was spinning, shame and panic tangling in my chest.

I couldn’t let him wake. It couldn’t be caught here.

I slipped out, the hallway spinning slightly around me, and slammed straight into Amanda.

Her eyes narrowed, her hand shooting out to grab my arm.

“Well, well, look who is doing the walk of shame” she purred, “look who’s sneaking out after a night of fun. I think Nicholas will love to hear about this.”

My blood went cold. The drug, the strange man who put his hands on me, the scent that drove me crazy. It all lead back to Amanda.

It had been her.

Panic flared for what Nicholas might realize if Amanda marched me back right now. I yanked at my arm, but her grip tightened.

We struggled, her voice rising, mine caught in my throat. Then the door behind us opened.

Amanda’s head snapped around, ready to gloat. Instead, she froze.

Nicholas stood in the doorway, his eyes landing on us both.